


Public Transit

by kaientai



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Current timeline, Enemies to ???, HNGGG, I love Sakusa, Other, Reader is a libero in honor of Nishinoya :’), We’ll never know cos this is just a oneshot, he's a little shit in this tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22648492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaientai/pseuds/kaientai
Summary: There are only ever two types of people on the subway at five in the morning: those gearing up early for what the day has in store and those dragging themselves home in their drunken stupor.You justhadto be the latter, didn't you?
Relationships: Sakusa Kiyoomi/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 317





	Public Transit

**Author's Note:**

> *raises hand* i think sakusa deserves more love

You're only vaguely aware of the train screeching to a stop when you cracked one eye open. 

"We have arrived at Shibuya Station. Please stand clear of the doors and mind the gap between the train and the platform. Thank you." 

The groan you wrenched out sounded awfully dry in your throat as you forced yourself to sit upright. Shibuya was the most crowded district in Tokyo, and you'll probably get your ass kicked out of the train if the marshals found you sprawled all over the seats. Your cheek felt cool from where it had been pressed against the cold metal, but you managed to overlook the sensation as you tried to pull yourself together.

"No more yakinikus that lasted until morning," you swore under your breath. " _No more_."

The train doors finally opened, and you were at awe with the influx of passengers this early in the day. It was barely five A.M but Shibuya was already bustling as usual. As each of the Tokyo commuters filed inside the car, you noticed the way their eyes would latch onto your inebriated form for one second before deciding to sit as far away from you as possible. 

You scoffed. Damn, at least you weren't _driving_ drunk. 

It seemed like an eternity has passed before you heard the doors signal for a close. The car was pretty much packed now, save for the vacancy to your right. The schoolgirl sitting beside you seemed rattled enough by the stench of sake that clung to your clothes, so it wasn't a surprise that no one had bothered taking the only seat that's left. 

That was until _he_ arrived.

"What a pain," grumbled the unreasonably tall man, face scrunching up beneath his face mask.

Rather annoyed, you flipped him off without a second thought, making the elderly woman in the adjacent seat gasp. "You either sit the fuck down or shut the fuck up, buddy." 

Little miss schoolgirl squeaked at your uncalled-for antagonism, and your conscience was beginning to nag at you to stop letting the damn alcohol talk. If someone even vaguely recognized you, you were going to get an earful from your coach later in the day. 

Tall, snark, and handsome—wait, did you just call him handsome?—narrowed his eyes but then a flash of something you couldn't quite single out shadowed his face. Before you could ponder about it more, however, the train was beginning to pick up speed, leaving the district of Shibuya behind. 

When he didn't say anything more, you found yourself being able to sink back in your seat as you closed your eyes. Who knew that cold, subway train seats could be comfortable—

"Quite embarrassing, isn't it? For a V. League Division One libero to be seen in _that_ pitiful state?" 

All of a sudden, your wide-eyed gaze snapped itself back at him—expression turning rigid with panic. Fuck. He recognized you? 

Then, your stare wandered down to the black gym bag strapped across his lean shoulders. Three large claw marks were plastered across the surface, and you had to resist the urge to vomit all over the floor. 

MSBY Black Jackals was printed in shiny, gold lettering, and you could almost see him smirk through that damn face mask.

The next ten-or-so minutes were spent channeling all the negative energy you had on your person and shoving it all on the man before you in a heated gaze. How dare he look so composed, gloved hand clutching the handrail so nonchalantly as if he didn't just insult you?

"We have arrived at Shinjuku Station," the voice of the woman speaking through the PA system rang in your ears. "Please stand clear of the doors and mind the gap between the—"

"Do compose yourself, (Surname)," Black Jackals guy taunted as he made his way towards the exit. "You can't always let the night life run its course until morning." 

"I know that, jackass," you hissed, earning yourself even more judgmental stares from the other passengers. 

Thankfully, he decided to let you have the last word, the only retaliation you saw from him being the glimmer of smugness that shined in his dark irises. Tall guy stepped off the train and disappeared in the throng of Tokyo commuters within seconds.

Once the train veered into motion once more, you scooched a little to the side to make space for the first passenger of the day who didn't give a shit sitting next to a drunk. He was busy scrolling through weird TikToks on his phone to care, and that's when you finally allowed yourself to relax. 

You decided that, once you got a decent amount of sleep, you were going to hunt that damn Black Jackals guy down.

* * *

"You were out drinking again, weren't you?!" 

Your face twisted at your captain's shrill voice grating at your ears. "Maricchi, I got here relatively on time, didn't I?"

" _Relatively_?" Mari echoed, tapping her foot with waning patience against the floor. "It's been thirty minutes since warm-ups began, and you had the guts to show up with a hangover? (Name), we've only got two liberos on the team, and Sakura is still on maternity leave. You can't both be out of commission!"

You waved away her fury with a nonchalant gesture. "Right, right. Could you, um, tone it down a little? Your voice is magnified by like a hundred in my head, just so you know." 

"Whatever," she told you dismissively. "I bet you forgot we're having a joint training session today, too." 

"A...what?" 

"Yeah, idiot," jeered your captain. "Or are you too hungover to notice all the damn men with us today?" 

You stared at her in confusion before letting your gaze wander across the entirety of the gymnasium. Some were talking among themselves, while others sought out the help of your teammates in doing their sit-ups. 

Now, joint training sessions weren't an entirely new concept to you. Division One V. League had a knack for mixing up male and female teams in the said training sessions, so the match-up didn't really come as a surprise to you, but it just had to be _that_ team, didn't it? 

Black uniforms with golden claw marks slashed onto the fabric. The gods really were out to torment you today.

"Oi." 

You hated yourself for reacting instinctively to the familiar voice. Craning your head to the side, you were met by the same, dark eyes that ridiculed you first thing in the morning. This time, though, he was devoid of the black face mask he wore during his commute, and you hated yourself even more for thinking that yup, he definitely _was_ tall, snark, and handsome. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi—that was his name.

"How long can you hold up against outside hitters?" he questioned, carding his fingers through his inky hair. "Division One liberos aren't a joke, but from the way you were half-dead in the train earlier, I figured it would be merciful to go easy on you." 

You could practically feel Mari's eyes burning holes in the back of your head. However, you opted to save the explanations for later. 

"Listen here, you punk," you ground out through gritted teeth. "You don't give a rat's ass about my well-being, got that? Send a thousand spikes my way and I'll dig every. Single. One." 

His mouth twitched into something that wasn't quite a smile, but there was an unspoken challenge in his eyes that you'd want nothing else but to take on. Before he could speak again, though, another party has joined the fray.

"Oomi-kun, you aren't usually one to talk unless spoken to," the Jackals' setter, Miya Atsumu sighed, slinging an arm around Sakusa—a show of familiarity that the latter didn't seem to enjoy. "What're ya doin' canoodling with the enemy, huh?" 

"None of your business, Miya," Sakusa scoffed before turning back to you. "I'll take your word on that, you drunkard." 

You gasped, steeling your expression. "Bring it on, asshole." 

"My, my. Such competitive spirits this early in the season!" Miya hollered at your unbridled hatred for the other right off the bat. "Well, Oomi-kun and I are gonna get goin'. He still has to spike some of my tosses."

"What—"

The blond tutted Sakusa before he could get another word out, pushing him by the shoulders as he sent a wink your way. "Let's have a good game, libero-san!" 

Once the odd duo left you to your own devices, you should've expected Mari to explode on you like a nuclear meltdown. 

"How did you know Sakusa? And Miya, too? Just what did you get yourself into, (Name)?!"

The sigh you let out is a bit strained as your gaze riveted itself on the other side of the court. True to his word, Miya really did force Sakusa into hitting his tosses, and the sound of a volleyball landing on the floor with a clean spike was _music_ to your ears. 

The devil really had no business making him look so cool as he did so, too. 

"I have no idea," was what you told your captain. "Come on, help me warm up. No way am I letting that jerk score any hits off me." 


End file.
